


Choosing Sides

by KCMarsala



Series: Reylo One Shots [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Universe, Execution, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, No Smut, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 07:36:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16154525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KCMarsala/pseuds/KCMarsala
Summary: The war is over, the rebels victorious. In the midst of building a new galactic governing system, Kylo Ren, long missing and presumed dead, reappears. Captured with surprising ease, he is incarcerated and put on trial. And the verdict has just come in…Teaser Preview:“I’ve been out there for days,” she cried, “fighting for you, telling anyone who would listen that you’re not the monster they all think you are, that there is good in you and that you deserve a chance to redeem yourself! I’m the only one who’s been doing that, Kylo Ren, and this is the thanks I get? The assumption that all I really want is to kill you?!”She spun away from him, determined to go stew in her own fury, but quickly realized she had more to say.“Poe doesn’t want me to do it either, you know. He wants me to just leave you the hell alone, too. But I can’t, alright? I can’t sit aside and not know what’s going on. I can’t let some a**hole who thinks you’re the galaxy’s biggest s**t decide to f**k up your execution and make it even worse for you. I can make sure you don’t suffer. I can make sure I know it’s done right. I can’t trust anyone else to do that and I can’t live with it being done wrong. You’ve suffered enough!”





	Choosing Sides

**Author's Note:**

> I read a couple of post-war-trial-and-verdict type fics recently, and this idea got stuck in my head. And, as we all know, once an idea gets stuck in your head, there's only one way to get it out!
> 
> I hope you enjoy this little bit of fluffy, angsty extemporanea!

Rey closed her eyes and sank into her seat, numb to the cheers that surrounded her. In direct contrast to the jubilation that deafened and jostled her, she felt distinctly ill. She’d done everything she could to prevent this, had practically begged the tribunal to see things her way. And she still couldn’t escape the suspicion that, had Leia been here, together they could have stood a chance. As it was, though, her pragmatic side knew it had been inevitable. But still…she’d hoped…

Forcing herself to open her eyes, she saw happy smiles and tears of joy everywhere. Men and women were hugging each other, slapping one another on the back as if they’d accomplished a great feat. She overheard words like “celebrate” and “victory” being thrown around. It sickened her, to witness the glee with which an entire society, it seemed, rejoiced in the decision to end a man’s life.

Thoroughly disgusted, she shoved herself up from her seat, only to find herself confronted by Finn. His smile — wide, engaging, and all-encompassing — soured upon meeting her gaze and his eyes quickly fell, shame overcoming him as her somber mood forced him to take a fresh look at his glee. The stinging pain of betrayal pricking at her eyes, she quickly side-stepped him without saying a word and without turning when he called after her.

Suddenly knowing what she had to do, Rey fought her away against the flow of the crowd, mercilessly shoving aside anyone who got in her way. More than once, she saw faces take hers in and quickly lose their mirth, just like Finn had, and she spared an embittered look for each of them as she hurried past. Still with yards to go, she looked up and saw the members of the tribunal — shaking hands and congratulating each other on the loss of their humanity — dispersing.

“Poe!” she shouted, repeating her call with greater vigor when he didn’t turn toward her right away.

When he did finally meet her gaze, she saw a stony mask come down over him. But, to his credit, he didn’t try to run off and hide from her. Instead, he bowed his head, fiddled awkwardly with his hands for a moment before plunking them on his hips, then waited for her to reach him through the crowd. Whatever he’d been expecting her to say, though, his reaction instantly made it clear it wasn’t what he actually got.

“Let me do it.”

Staring at him with gritty determination, she watched in grim fascination as his face morphed from confusion, to understanding, to horror. Fortunately, though, he didn’t try to pretend he didn’t know exactly what she meant.

“What?” he nearly shouted. “No! Rey, you don’t need this!”

“No,” she agreed quickly, “I don’t. But it’s what I have. And I’ll be _damned_ , Poe,” she insisted sternly, her face in his and her finger jabbing him hard in his chest, “if I’ll let some blood-thirsty _fuck_ who’s been waiting for this day to do it. No. It’ll be me and no one else.”

Now, he looked angry.

“You know I wouldn’t let it be like that, Rey.”

“Oh, no?” she challenged acidly. “You mean to tell me you haven’t fantasized about getting your revenge for that interrogation before Starkiller?”

“Maybe, I have,” he agreed, countering her ice with the heat he threw right back at her, “but _I’m_ not the monster!” He paused, taking a deep breath and clearly trying to find his equilibrium. “It will be done humanely. No pain, no contact, just him, alone. It’s a hell of a lot better than he deserves!”

“And all the more reason why I won’t allow it.”

“You don’t have a say in the matter!”

“But you do,” she agreed, her voice suddenly low, cold. “And you’ll do this, Poe. You’ll do this for me. I’ve never asked you for anything else. Ever in all the years we’ve known each other. But you _will_ do this for me.”

Her voice cracked at the last and the tears burned in her eyes. She swallowed them back hard, knowing she would lose all credibility the moment they were seen. And yet, as she watched Poe’s expression slowly and reluctantly soften, instinct told her it was those unshed tears and her valiant effort to stifle them that broke him. With a belabored sigh, he bowed his head and dropped his arms.

“I’ll see what I can do. I suppose you’ll want to be the one to tell him, too?” he added, his tone not wholly snide but not entirely sympathetic either.

“He already knows,” Rey countered bitterly. “But, yes, I am going to go see him now. And _that_ I _don’t_ need you for.”

Without another thought, she turned and strode firmly from the hall. She knew she was leaving him hurting, knew he was questioning whether or not their friendship would ever be the same after this incident, and, frankly, she didn’t care. She only had one person on her mind and, since she now had irrefutable confirmation that she was the _only_ one who did, she wouldn’t begrudge him that.

Rey marched herself through the compound, doing her level best to ignore everyone she passed. All around, she heard snippets of conversations, words like “Ren” and “death” and even her own name on occasion. Every time she did, she felt the sharp sting of failure pierce her heart, but it wasn’t until it occurred to her how desperately she had failed Leia that the tears broke. And, though she had a sinking suspicion he didn’t, she hoped Poe felt that failure too. It would have taken only one vote to turn the verdict from death to exile, and she had held out hope until the very last instant that Poe might have been willing to give that vote if for no other reason than out of loyalty to the late general and princess. Wherever she was, she fervently hoped Leia was looking down on Poe and giving him every vile gesture she knew. He deserved to be haunted the rest of his days by an angry Force spirit.

By the time she reached the remote bunker, her tears were under control again, if not her emotions. The two guards lounging outside the cell hastily and expressly built for this prisoner stumbled instantly and awkwardly to their feet as soon as she thrust the door open. One even hastily dropped some kind of sweet bun onto the desk he’d just jerked his feet off of in order to stand at attention in case she was someone important. And she supposed she was, just not the kind of important that required a rigid stance and salute, so they quickly relaxed. But the instant she spoke, they were on guard again.

“Open it.”

After exchanging a glance between one another, it became a battle of wills to see who would be the unlucky one who would have to actually converse with the angry Jedi.

“Ma’am, I don’t—”

“Don’t give me that shit,” Rey interrupted. “Open the fucking cell!”

The guard’s eyes widened, flickering toward her compatriot for support. “We can’t. We’re under orders—”

“Then give me the key,” she demanded, uninterested in excuses or explanation.

More awkward looks and stammered explanations and Rey had had enough. Thoroughly disgusted, she reached for her lightsaber and the guards both erupted into shouts of protest, their hands raised defensively and their heads shaking desperately, but it wasn’t their voice that reached through to her.

“They can’t, Rey. They don’t have it.”

She paused with the sheathed weapon still held aloft, glancing toward the dark, imposing figure behind the crudely constructed prison though unable to bring herself to actually look at him. But she understood instantly what had transpired: Poe. He’d known what the verdict would be — of course he did, because he’d known _he_ was the only chance for a reprieve and knew he wasn’t going to give it — and he’d known how she would react to it. She wasn’t here to free him. That would just be ridiculous. But he didn’t deserve to be caged like an animal, and she’d been very vocal with Poe about that all along. He’d turned himself _in_ , for fuck’s sake! And yet that didn’t seem to mean anything to anyone but her.

“Fucking Poe!” she swore heatedly under her breath.

Thoroughly disgusted by the man Leia had once thought of almost as a son, Rey ignited her lightsaber and turned to strike the sturdy metal frame that wouldn’t stand a chance against it. Shouts of alarm and protest rose behind her but it was turning to see Kylo Ren that brought her to her senses. He stood at the bars, peering at her between them and reaching out, his palm facing her. She didn’t hear what he was saying, but his eyes were alarmed and he was shaking his head. She shook her own right back, telling him silently that she’d been wrong, that there was no hope for him here and that she’d failed him, that this was the only way. But he shook his head again, and that was when she heard him.

“Not like this, Rey. This isn’t you.”

And he was right.

Turning her head cautiously, she found the guards with blasters pointed unsteadily in her direction, their eyes filled with fear. This wasn’t right, wasn’t her, and yet the only thought that had her dousing her weapon was that, from this angle, they might hit him. And how ridiculous was that, being worried he might get shot when they had decided he wasn’t worth saving anyway? Still…

Her arms dropped like dead weight to her sides and she felt a mighty sob rip through her chest. She muttered a directive for them to get out, but neither of them moved. When she lifted her face and shouted it again, she finally saw why, when one of them glanced awkwardly at the weapon she still held in her hand.

“Give it to them, Rey.”

She closed her eyes. Although he was behind her and out of sight, she could hear the resignation in his voice and it broke her heart. Knowing she was moments away from losing it entirely, she nodded, flipping the hilt in her hand and extending it out toward the nearest of the two. To her vast relief, she accepted the weapon from her and the pair of them promptly exited the bunker, muttering something about waiting outside.

Weary, disheartened, and sorrowful, she sunk to the floor right where she was. She squeezed her eyes against the tears that leaked through, unable to help the trembling in her shoulders, but she maintained her silence, knowing her grief would only make it worse for him. Slowly, she settled, calmed, regained control. But, still, she didn’t face him, couldn’t, knowing how horribly she’d failed him.

“You know it couldn’t have ended any other way.”

She closed her eyes against his words, spoken so low and soft, so gentle. This entire time, he hadn’t held out any hope. She knew because he’d _told_ her that, on so many occasions, had even told her all that meant anything to him was that the delay give him time to talk to her…as if that was worth dying for.

“It _could_ have,” she insisted bitterly, her voice shaky. “I could have—”

“Stop.”

She responded to the weary aggravation in his voice with instant compliance. And when he sighed heavily, she sighed with him.

“You did everything you could, more than I could have hoped for. Please don’t blame yourself.”

Knowing he was right and yet not wanting to admit it, she gripped her head in her hands and folded her body in half. Her forehead met her crossed ankles as she wrapped her arms around her head, trying to stave off the utter despair that nipped at the edge of her consciousness.

She felt a wave of nausea pass over her and knew he must have moved. The Force-nullifying technology that was affixed to him not only kept him from escaping, but it also kept their bond from forming. And she hated it. She hated it so hard, almost as much as she hated Poe right now. She had no way of knowing what he was thinking or feeling, had to rely on his words instead of her senses, and it was so aggravating, so blinding…so dispiriting. It kept him from being all she knew he was, kept her from _feeling_ all of him, and the though maybe that was the worst part of all of this. He was about to die, to be executed by the supposed “good” guys in the wake of the ridiculous galactic conflict that had brought them together, and he wasn’t even allowed to be his full, true self at the end.

She didn’t know how long she sat there, huddled into a clump of miserable, angry flesh, unable to face him and yet unable to leave either. She wanted to comfort him, to help him feel less alone in these last hours or days or however long that damn tribunal would grant him. But she couldn’t get past her own grief, her own rage. And she was stuck, knowing she wasn’t doing either him or herself any good, and yet unable to do anything else. So it wasn’t much of a surprise when he said what he did, but it still wasn’t at all what she wanted to hear.

“You need to go, Rey,” he murmured low, almost a whisper.

She shook her head in protest as she unfolded her body, but he hadn’t even said the worst of it yet.

“You need to go and not come back.”

“What?” she shrieked, spinning to finally face him directly. “No! I won’t do that!”

“You need to, Rey!” he insisted, his hands gripping his cage so tight his knuckles were even paler than the rest of him, his voice and expression so impassioned…his eyes so sad… “You need to distance yourself from me. Everyone already knows you weren’t in favor of the verdict, and you’re only going to make it worse for yourself now if you keep persisting in this. I’m not a very popular guy, you know…”

Rey threw down her hands in frustration. “They don’t know you like I do!”

“No one has _ever_ known me like you do.”

Her breath caught in her throat. She had no doubt that it was true, had suspected it for quite some time. But the raw simplicity with which he’d confessed that… It tore at her horribly and she didn’t know what to do with what it made her feel. Having no better answers, she merely turned away from him again.

“Rey…”

She heard the strain in his voice and it hurt, but she couldn’t let him see that. When she merely shook her head again, he sighed deeply.

“Rey, you’re not doing yourself any favors. You need to—”

“I’m all you have left!” she cried, turning on him sharply and gripping the bars as she lunged at him as well as she could. “And I _won’t_ abandon you!”

His eyes widened imperceptibly from where he’d fallen back from the bars and he stared at her. Locked in their embrace, she saw such depth there, such emotion that she couldn’t quite read, and she realized just how little she really understood about him. Then, in a gesture she recognized all too well because she’d been using it herself throughout this conversation, his jaw clamped down, his gaze shuttered, and he bowed his head.

“There’s nothing left for me, Rey. You know that. It’d be best if you just…leave me alone.”

She snorted indelicately, her mouth twisting sourly as she muttered, “It’ll be a little difficult for me to do that.”

Angered not only by his effort to distance her from him, but also by his forcing her to recognize she’d been doing the same thing, she hit her fist hard against the bars in frustration and stood up. She had no intention of leaving, of course — she wasn’t sure she would at all anymore, not until the end — but she just had too much furious energy and needed to pace some of it off. She had finally halted, her fingers combed and tangled into her hair as her mind kept going over the same ground again and again, when his voice nearly startled her.

“What do you mean?”

She turned to him, confused, trying to recall what she’d said.

“You said it would be difficult for you to leave me alone,” he reminded her, his stare dark and intense. “What did you mean by that?”

Still confused for a moment, her eyes widened as she realized the answer to his question, a revelation she hadn’t at all wanted to let slip…

“Just…you know…that…what I already said,” she stammered awkwardly. “I won’t abandon you.”

His eyes narrowed and he slowly climbed to his feet, stealthily, like a prowling beast. Even though she knew he could do her no harm — that he _wouldn’t_ , even if it weren’t for the bars and the Force-nullifying cuff about his wrist — her heart thundered in her chest as he fixed her with his piercing stare.

“You’re a terrible liar.”

Annoyed, she glared at him, but it was immediately clear her ire wasn’t going to convince him to back off.

“What do you mean?” he reiterated, his voice low, menacing…

She stared a moment longer, then sighed heavily, telling herself he would find out eventually anyway.

“I’ve asked Poe to be the one to do it,” she admitted in a laden sigh.

For the span of four full heartbeats, he didn’t move a muscle. Not one. Then, slowly, as if wary his movement might frighten her, he lifted his hands and wrapped them around the bars, his intense gaze never leaving her face.

“To do…what?”

She sighed and cocked her head wearily at him. “Don’t make me say it…”

Indeed, by the abrupt widening of his eyes and the whitening of his knuckles on the bars, it was evident he didn’t need her to.

“No,” he stated flatly, then with increasing fervor as he spun away from her, his arms flinging wildly as his protests grew in strength. “No, I won’t have you anywhere near there!”

“That’s not up to you!” she spat in her own protest. “ _You’re_ the prisoner!”

Regretting the comment as soon as it passed her lips, Rey couldn’t help the way her body jerked when he suddenly charged her, practically running his way back to the barrier that separated them as he thrust his body up against it.

“I mean it, Rey, so help me!” he growled fiercely. “I don’t want you there!”

“You stopped frightening me a long time ago, Ren! So just give it up!”

Their gazes locked for a moment, each waiting for the other to relent and refusing to do so themselves. For Rey’s part, she worked to contain the heaving in her chest. She hadn’t lied, she wasn’t afraid of him, and yet what she was feeling was something she couldn’t quite define but was very alike in its effect. Her brows were pitched, her fists clenched, her heart hammering, and her throat parched as she challenged his will with her own.

Finally, his jaw working furiously at itself, he spat out the most vile curses she thought she’d ever heard then spun away from her. She watched in fascination as he struggled to contain whatever it was he was feeling, muttering and spitting through clenched teeth as his fits gripped at his hair and he even stamped his foot like a petulant child. Then, when evidently this didn’t do enough for him, he reared his head back and roared like a beast, causing Rey to shudder violently and falter in her resolve for an moment before she could reclaim her composure.

Anticipating the interruption brought on by his excessive noise, Rey turned the instant the door opened and shouted in its direction.

“I’m fine! Get out!”

The guard looked in curiously, her gaze angling toward Ren as Rey shouted even more forcefully.

“ _Now_!”

Once the door was securely shut again, Rey allowed herself one deep, fortifying breath before she turned back to him. He was hunched on the floor beside his meager cot, his head tucked low and entirely hidden from her, giving her the uncanny and entirely uncomfortable impression of a severely wounded animal. With another soft sigh, she approach the bars again, struggling with what to say. Everything seemed so inadequate, so… _pointless_. And yet she couldn’t just leave him like that…

“Kylo—”

“Why would you _do_ that?” he interrupted swiftly, his voice muffled by his clothing.

“I…”

Rey hesitated, her hands fluttering helplessly, absently touching, gripping, and releasing the bars as she struggled with how to answer that. When she tried again, still having no idea what she would say he suddenly turned on her and the look in his eyes truly was feral.

“Your chance to finally accomplish what you never could before?”

Her jaw dropped. He— He thought— He thought that she—

The fury that came over her then was like nothing she’d ever before experienced. If she’d been in a stable state of mind, it would have frightened her. As it was, though, she rode its inexorable tide, a tiny, unacknowledged part of her recognizing rage was preferable to sorrow.

Grasping the bars with a fierce grip and leaning her face inside his cell as much as she was able, she spat out at him viciously, “ _Fuck you_.”

When that failed to garner her any relief, she struck the bars with her fist. Certainly not a wise move, but she didn’t even feel the impact.

“I’ve been out there for days,” she cried, “ _fighting_ for you, telling anyone who would listen that you’re not the monster they all think you are, that there _is_ good in you and that you deserve a chance to redeem yourself! I’m the only one who’s been doing that, _Kylo Ren_ , and _this_ is the thanks I get? The assumption that all I really want is to _kill you_?!”

She spun away from him, determined to go stew in her own fury, but quickly realized she had more to say.

“Poe doesn’t want me to do it either, you know. He wants me to just leave you the hell alone, too. But I _can’t_ , alright? I can’t sit aside and not know what’s going on! I can’t let some _asshole_ who thinks you’re the galaxy’s biggest _shit_ decide to fuck up your execution and make it even worse for you! _I_ can make sure you don’t suffer! _I_ can make sure I know it’s done right! I can’t trust anyone else to do that and I can’t live with it being done wrong! _You’ve suffered enough!_ ”

It wasn’t until she paused for breath and a great heaving sob choked her that she even realized she was crying. But when she tried to stifle it, it just got worse, then her legs gave out beneath her. Stumbling to the floor, vaguely aware of the warmth of his arm extending across her back in sharp contrast to the cold of the bars pressed against her face, she could only weep, pouring out everything she’d kept bottled up for so long now. She was miserable, disheartened, and so sick to death of being told what she could and could not do. _She_ was the fucking Jedi!

And so, still blinded by tears, she shoved away from him and the bars, feeling the horrible sensation of the nullifying field falling away from her consciousness as she gained enough distance. Without a second thought, she reached up with the Force and crushed the locking mechanism on the cell door. Then, entirely aware of the repercussions she would face for this, she reached out again and tore that damn cuff off his wrist.

Though she more than half expected him to simply take advantage of her stupidity and run, he didn’t. Instead, as she very nearly collapsed again, she found herself in his arms and she clung to him, her fists twisted in the fabric of his tunic as she wept hard and loud into his chest, wondering at the sensation of his arms enclosing her, his breath ruffling in her hair, and his lips brushing against her forehead as he whispered things to her she couldn’t understand.

“Why?” she moaned in misery against him. “Why couldn’t you just stay away? Why did you have to get captured? No one cared about you anymore! The war was over. No one was looking for you. You could have just stayed away!”

He didn’t answer, only held her tighter, but the force of her weeping wouldn’t have allowed him to get an intelligible word in anyway. In fact, she wasn’t wholly certain _she_ had been in the least intelligible. So she just continued crying and bawling her eyes out. And, eventually, she started to notice things, like the way he was stroking her back so gently, his fingers every now and then venturing further upward to smooth along her hair. Or the way he smelled like wood burning fire, or that he had somehow managed to encase her with his legs as well as his arms, or how his cheek was cradled against the back of her head as he rocked her back and forth…back and forth…

Or that, with every one of these realizations, her heart broke a little more.

After a long time, his voice, soft and tremulous, drifted to her ears.

“I didn’t mean to get captured, you know.”

Rey closed her eyes again, pressing her heated cheek in more firmly against his chest…against her better judgment.

“They why did you?” she moaned miserably. “You could have gotten away.”

“I…didn’t want to hurt anyone.”

A harsh, wet scoff escaped her throat. “ _Now_ you gain a conscience.”

She felt the tightening of his cheek against her scalp. A smile, that was. With half-hearted fervor — or maybe even quarter-hearted — she twisted her hand into a fist and hit him in the ribs, just enough to let him know exactly what she thought of that bit of stupidity. She closed her eyes against the exquisite pain when he chuckled lightly into her hair, held her closer, and actually pressed his lips to her scalp.

“Why were you even there?” she asked abruptly, evoking a heavy sigh that she heard rumbling from deep inside his chest.

“It doesn’t matter any more,” he sighed after a pause. “It’s done.”

“Damn you!”

She pushed at his chest, extracting herself from the warmth of his embrace and sitting up in order to look him straight in the eye.

“Why can’t you just give me a straight answer for once?”

He stared at her for a long time, his gaze impossibly soft as he studied her face. His hand lifted, the back of his curved fingers nearing her jaw, and her heart leapt, her stomach twisted, and she even closed her eyes in anticipation of that touch. But it didn’t come. When she opened her eyes again, she saw the sorrow and the _distance_ that she was so sick of seeing in his face.

“No,” she groaned, her voice cracking. “Don’t shut me out again!”

“There’s no point, Rey—”

“Stop it! Just give me the truth! Stop being such a fucking coward!”

“I was there for you!”

As soon as the words left his lips, he stretched his chin upward, his gaze searching the ceiling while Rey replayed the words over and over in her mind, struggling to comprehend their meaning.

“Fuck!” he swore viciously before looking down and claiming her gaze once more with his own. “I wanted to see you, maybe to talk to you. It had been so long and you’d shut me out so thoroughly and it was only through chance that I found out where you were and I couldn’t help myself…” He sighed tightly and, this time, when his hand came forward between them, his fingers did trace the line of her jaw, smoothing their way over her skin. “And I’d do it again.”

She stared, mesmerized by his gaze, lost in the fathomless depth of his eyes and only one word could work its way through to her consciousness.

“Why?”

Impossible though it seemed, his gaze softened even more then. A slight smile tugged at his lips and a tiny sigh worked its way out of his nose.

“Rey,” he admonished gently. “Do you really not know?”

“How would I? You never—”

“I love you.”

She stared. Her mind blank. What?

“I love you.”

She shook her head. “Ky— Ben…”

“I have from the start. I didn’t know it at first, and then I fucked up so bad trying to tell you what I felt… You’re not nothing, Rey. You never have been. You’re _everything_. I’m so sorry it took me so long to figure out how to say that. If I’d thought—”

Having heard quite enough, Rey kissed him. It was then, in that instant when he overcame his surprise enough to return her kiss, that life blossomed before her, burst into glorious color and everything it was ever meant to be. She clung to him, both their mouths devouring each other as tears and desperation and long pent up emotions came pouring out. Without conscious effort or even the least amount of awareness, Rey’s barriers, built up and rooted in place for so long they no longer required conscious thought, slipped. Without fully realizing what was happening, their psyches intertwined and intermingled. And Rey gasped, arching away from his kiss in utter shock as she understood in an instant all she had been to him all along.

With tremulous wonder, she gazed into his face, only now realizing for the first time how much she felt for him, how much she hadn’t dared let herself feel since that glorious and yet devastating day in Snoke’s throne room. Of its own accord, her hand lifted to cradle his cheek, and he readily leaned into it, turning briefly to kiss her palm. Then, so quickly that she couldn’t stop it happening, reality seeped back in and her eyes widened in horror.

“Oh!” she moaned, her heart breaking anew. “Oh, gods… _Ben!_ ”

Fresh tears streaked as she recognized the futility of all of this. He was condemned to death. And she… She had _insisted_ on being the one to end his life. How was she supposed to do that now? How could she live with herself?

Ben’s gaze lowered and Rey belatedly realized he could sense her thoughts…just like she knew how he was thinking to remedy this problem. And her eyes widened yet more.

“No,” she stated flatly, the horror gripping her. “No, you wouldn’t.”

“Rey,” he moaned, his essence subsumed with nothing more discernible now than the profound, endless, heartbreaking sorrow that gripped him. “Sweetheart…”

Tenderly, delicately, he tugged her chin toward him with a crooked finger and claimed her lips with his own. She felt all the love and heartache and pain that went into that kiss.

“Don’t you know by now there’s nothing I won’t do for you?”

She heard his words, but they didn’t make any sense. Her tears flowed as she protested over and over, pleading with him through horrid sobs not to do this. But he only leaned in, kissed her forehead, his heart so clearly shattered, as she felt herself pulling back…back… Vaguely, distantly, she felt him guiding her, gripping her by both her shoulders and physically maneuvering her. And when he kissed her one last time, she didn’t protest — it was lovely, after all — but it didn’t make sense. And then, with a sudden gasp and a jerk like she’d been startled awake, Rey blinked and shook her head several times before she looked around.

“What did you _do_?” she exclaimed abruptly in alarm, taking in the surprising situation before her.

He didn’t answer, only stood there inside his thoroughly broken cage and gazed upon her with the saddest stare, one that made her wish… What? That she’d tried harder? What more could she have done?

With an exasperated sigh, she reached out through the Force and called another one of those damnable cuffs to her hand. It was inert, but even the thought of how it would feel when she clamped it shut was enough to make her shudder. Nevertheless, she entered the cell, wondering only belatedly if he was going to give her any trouble. He didn’t, though, only meekly stretched out his arm for her to clamp it on him. And there, just an instant before the nullifying field was activated, she felt the slightest brush of profound remorse somewhere in her consciousness. As the sickening feeling settled over them both, she met his gaze and communicated through her eyes just how sorry she was to have to do this to him. But he only nodded slightly then turned away.

Having nothing more to do or say, she left and closed the cell door, which merely bounced back open, unable to latch. Inspecting the damage, she realized there was no repairing it. It would all have to be rebuilt at great time and expense. With a weary sigh, she reached back with her hand to open the bunker door, the two guards soon popping their heads inside.

“My lightsaber?” she inquired, and was promptly rewarded with the item in question.

As she ignited the blade, she caught Kylo Ren flinch in the corner of her eye and she looked at him curiously. There was something there…something not quite right…but she couldn’t put her finger on it. All of a sudden she realized she couldn’t recall what they’d talked about, but she felt supremely foolish admitting that, so she didn’t. Instead, with another sigh, she brought the weapon to bear on the metal, letting it linger until the damaged door melted enough to hold him. It was crude and would require her services again when it came time for him to be removed from the cell, but that was alright. She’d be there anyway.

Having nothing left to keep her there, she looked up at him one more time.

“Do you want to know the details as they’re decided? When? Where? …How…?”

He didn’t answer right away and Rey almost worried perhaps he didn’t understand what she was walking about. He stared at her with the deepest sadness she thought she’d ever seen anywhere, and the sense that something was very, very _off_ came over her again. But then he was just shaking his head.

“No,” he murmured. “Just…come get me when it’s time.”

She nodded. But when she turned to leave, she found she just couldn’t leave without saying what was truly on her heart, even if she was repeating herself.

“I want you to know, I tried, Kylo. I really did.”

Although she didn’t think it was possible, he seemed even sadder at her words. It only made sense, though, and she didn’t think anything more of it as he merely nodded and assured her he knew. She, too, nodded again, then made her way out, still trying to ignore the inexplicable feeling that something was very wrong…

“Time” turned out to be not that much of a wait. Although she wasn’t feeling quite magnanimous enough to actually tell him in as many words, she was grateful to Poe for his efforts on that score. True to his word, he wasn’t interested in making him suffer any more than was absolutely necessary, either in terms of time or witnesses.

It was quickly decided that his execution would be a very restricted affair. Despite the righteous fervor that arose in public quarters over that decision, Poe held fast to his decision, even on more than one occasion furiously telling mobs of angry protesters to check their bloodlust and just be satisfied the bastard would be dead. While she wasn’t terribly happy with the sentiment, she was happy with the results. Only she, Poe, and two other members of the tribunal would be present at his execution. And Kylo, of course. Not even Finn would be there, which had quickly become quite the sore spot between him and Poe.

Furthermore, he was to have his choice in the manner of his death: beheading, hanging, or poisoning. Rey had glared at Poe when he’d explained this to her, afraid that the stubborn ass would choose hanging simply because he felt it to be the most justified death for his crimes. That would totally be his way of thinking. Personally, she was hoping he’d choose poisoning since she would be certain to choose something for him that would be fast, painless, and most assuredly lethal so there were no missteps. But, in all truth, she realized he would probably choose beheading, and she had to admit there was a certain justice in meeting his end by the blade of a lightsaber. Of course, since he’d opted not to be made aware of any of the arrangements beforehand, that meant Rey had to be prepared to administer whichever he choose on the spot.

At midnight the day after his sentencing, she, Poe, and the other two witnesses made their way to the distant bunker. She hadn’t seen him since she’d rigged the “repair” on the cell door, and wasn’t sure if she was surprised or relieved to find him utterly serene and calm. She saw him quickly stand from his little cot when he spotted her entering the bunker at the tail end of the small entourage, and his gaze remained fixed resolutely upon her and only her. Responding to the silent question in his gaze, she nodded slightly. _Yes, it’s time_. With a centering breath, he too nodded, and that was the extent of his reaction to learning he was about to die.

After slicing the ruined cell door open with her lightsaber, she stood back to claim the tail end of the procession to his execution. And, as he passed by the gate she held open, his finger brushed against hers ever so slightly. Startled, she stared at the back of his head as he continued forward without abatement, and she realized it must have been entirely accidental. Why she should suddenly be assigning nefarious meaning to the slightest happenstance like such a ninny was quite beyond her. Then, with a firm rattling of her head, she shook the errant thoughts aside.

Although the execution had been scheduled for late at night in order to minimize onlookers, there were still plenty, and not all of them were terribly peaceful…nor sober. So she went ahead and sent out the blanket impulse through the Force to go home and go to bed. Having been warned of this eventuality beforehand, the three members of the tribunal were able to ignore the sudden compulsion. And, although she knew he couldn’t feel it due to that horrid cuff he wore, she still saw Kylo Ren glance back at her in curiosity as the crowd suddenly yawned practically as one and began to disperse.

Finally having arrived at the designated location that had been hastily prepared for precisely this purpose, Rey followed the other four inside. Chosen for the room’s expanse, both horizontally and vertically, a small but sturdy gallows had been erected. Having trusted no one else with her poison once she’d crafted it, Rey came forward with a canteen and poured its clear, odorless contents into a cup, then set it along with her lightsaber on the table there, clearly displaying the options for the instruments of his death. Returning to the back of the room, Rey waited with barely contained impatience to watch the proceedings and learn what sort of executioner she would be today.

There was a lot of legalese that the tribunal members had to work though, including the charges, the verdict, and the sentence. Throughout it all, Kylo kept his eyes fixed on Rey. Although Poe seemed unsettled by this and kept glancing back at her, Rey felt remarkably little concern about it. In fact, the third time Poe turned around not-so-inconspicuously to see how she was responding to Kylo’s little staring session, she glared and wrinkled her nose at him in irritation. He didn’t turn around again after that. But Kylo… She noticed he actually smiled a little to himself at the exchange, dropping his gaze briefly before returning to his sustained and silent contemplation of her.

“The sentence,” Poe finally intoned, having reached his part in the process, “is to be carried out by the means of the condemned’s choice: beheading, hanging, or poisoning. You may take your time,” he said, being the first person to actually address Kylo Ren like a human being, “in choosing your preference.”

“Beheading.”

His choice was swift and decisive. Rey lifted her chin, not at all surprised by his choice. Hanging was unnecessarily painful for him, and surely he’d known she would make poisoning easy… _too_ easy. Still, it was disconcerting that he’d chosen the method that most directly involved her participation, and she wondered how bad and how long this would cause nightmares for her. But, she would do this. After all the myriad ways she’d failed him and his mother, she _would_ do this.

“Does the condemned have anything to say before the sentence is carried out?”

For the first time, Rey’s eyes were pulled away from Kylo to the tall woman who had headed the tribunal. For some reason, she hadn’t realized he would be given an opportunity to speak. And, when he spoke her name, she was both shocked and not at all surprised.

“Rey,” he said, waiting patiently for her to meet his gaze before proceeding. “I understand why you’re doing this. And I appreciate it. Thank you.”

Rattled for reasons she couldn’t quite decipher, she felt a shudder stir through her body, working its way up to her shoulders, which hunched briefly then had her head twitching in the semblance of a shake. Realizing her strange and incomprehensible reaction might seem like she was negating his statement when that was not at all her intent, she nodded decisively, almost more of a bow, really, than just a nod. And Kylo Ren seemed satisfied.

Apparently far more familiar with the proceedings than any of them — and Rey hated to think of just _why_ that was — Kylo moved upon receiving Rey’s acknowledgement. After turning his back on the small audience, he dropped to his knees, where he waited patiently for Rey to come and slide her lightsaber blade through his neck. It would be quick, painless, and even mostly clean, the plasma’s heat cauterizing the wound before it could even bleed.

But none of it could start until Rey managed to move.

Frozen to the spot where Kylo had given his last words, Rey frowned, shaking her head sharply every now and then in an effort to clear it. She’d puzzled over this since her last meeting with him and had mostly convinced herself that it didn’t matter. But when, precisely, had she explained to Kylo Ren why she’d insisted on serving as his executioner? She simply couldn’t recall. He could have figured it out on his own, she supposed, but a gut instinct she’d learned long ago to trust implicitly told her, no, that wasn’t it. There was a mystery, here, and she didn’t like it. Not in the least.

“Rey?”

Her eyes snapped upward to find all gazes except Kylo’s on her. Poe, whose voice had yanked her out of her stupor, appeared especially concerned by her odd behavior, so she swiftly nodded to him then moved forward to claim her lightsaber from the table by the gallows that would thankfully go unused. Her gaze lingered upon the poisoned cup on the same table, wondering for a moment if she could convince him to go that route instead, or if he was even allowed to change his mind at this point. But she knew he wouldn’t. Knew he wouldn’t just as well as she knew everything else about him.

That that drew her short. She didn’t know him at all. They’d shared something years ago, a bond she had long since learned how to shut down, but there hadn’t been anything for years. When he was captured, she hadn’t even known he was still alive. She certainly hadn’t encountered him since the end of the war. So what, precisely, led her to think she knew _anything_ about him?

“Rey?” Poe’s voice interrupted her thoughts again. “Are you alright?”

But, instead of answering Poe, she found her gaze falling upon Kylo, who had twisted around to gaze up at her, clearly wondering how this scatterbrained display was meant to ease his execution and see that it was done right.

Maker, _when_ had she told him that?!

“Rey!”

“Yes!” she answered swiftly, more of a reaction to Poe’s harsh tone than anything else. Then she repeated herself more deliberately, though her own voice sounded alien to her ears. “Yes, I’m fine.”

She didn’t know how Poe responded to her statement because she didn’t look, but Kylo nodded at her from his awkward twisted position on his knees in front of her.

“I’m ready,” he whispered, just loud enough for her to hear.

And Rey’s heart hammered to realize he was actually _comforting her_ over having to kill him. Feeling lightheaded all of a sudden, Rey shook her head. How the hell did any of this make sense?

Gritting her teeth and knowing there was nothing for it but to get it done, she ignited her lightsaber, watched the sleek, white light extend smoothly from the hilt. She’d fought him with this blade. Only a few times, but they had been passionate battles, every one.

_In which no one was going to die_.

Rey gasped, stumbling backward in shock. Even though she’d recognized the voice that had spoken so unexpectedly inside her mind as her own, she nevertheless looked around like she expected to see some specter floating in the air, some explanation for who had spoken. But there was no one and no response, other than Poe’s increasingly furious gaze, evidently wondering both what the hell was wrong with her and if she was staging a coup. No, she definitely wasn’t staging a coup, and yet she just couldn’t shake the feeling that something was really, dreadfully, horribly wrong.

Forcing herself to focus on Kylo and recognize that her delay of the inevitable was only torturing him at this point, she brought her lightsaber closer to his neck, taking her aim carefully so she could accomplish a clean kill. She watched from behind as he lifted his head and even turned it a little toward her weapon so she could see the edge of his jaw past the fall of his hair, thus giving her a clear goal between his shoulder and his chin. From that vantage, she also saw the serenity on his face when he closed his eyes to await her killing stroke. And it was then, in that instant, that she knew with utmost clarity…

…she couldn’t kill him.

She had no clue why, couldn’t fathom where this realization was coming from, but she also knew that, should she attempt to ignore this instinctual understanding, then she would be paying for it for the rest of her life, haunted by remorse and wretchedness that would destroy her psyche. And, in the next moment as she wondered what to do, she found herself moving without having realized what she intended.

Rey planted her foot on Kylo’s upper back and pushed him forward. Entirely ignoring the cry of outrage and protest that arose from Poe behind her, she made one wide, sweeping arc of her weapon that neatly and effortlessly removed Kylo Ren’s head from his shoulders. Before anyone could say anything in the hush that followed, indeed before even taking her foot of his back, Rey sheathed her weapon and twisted to glare over her shoulder.

“There,” she stated fiercely, “it’s done.”

A hush fell over them all, broken only when one of the tribunal members stepped forward nervously.

“We have to check—”

“You don’t have to check anything,” Rey interrupted. “You’ve done your part. He’s dead. You can see his head over there and there’s nothing more you can do. So get out. No one’s touching him but me now.”

The three of them took another moment to absorb what she was saying and, finally, Poe nodded. From the corner of her eye, Rey saw him gesture to the others that they could go, but before he followed suit, he turned back to her.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help?”

“You’ve helped enough, Poe,” she snapped bitterly.

Rey saw him lift his chin and she knew she’d hurt him, but she didn’t care. And evidently, he got that message. He nodded and murmured something about being outside if she needed him, but Rey just turned away from him, dismissing him entirely from her thoughts as she gazed down at the body at her feet.

Actually, though she gave the impression of no longer caring in the least about Poe, she was highly attuned to his movements, concentrating to hear every sound he made and carefully calculating where that translated to his location within the room. As he slowly shuffled back toward the door, Rey began to tremble, the strain getting to her. At last, once she heard the door open and close, she gave one last effort with bated breath to confirm he had indeed left, then exhaled sharply, falling to her knees at Kylo’s side. Over his back and against the wall where it had rolled, his head swiftly disappeared, only to reappear atop his shoulders as he sat up and gazed at her in awe.

“You used a glamour?” he asked, to which she could only nod. “Why? _How_? Weren’t you inside the field?’

She looked down at the cuff around his wrist, almost retching against the sensation it settled deep in her gut.

“I was just far enough away,” she exhaled. “It was hard as hell to sustain, though. Thank you for not moving.”

To her surprise, he actually laughed, complete with a genuine smile. And it occurred to her that she didn’t think she’d ever seen him smile before. And it was beautiful.

Startled by distantly familiar sensations twisting and tightening deep in her core, Rey felt her cheeks flushing, and she didn’t entirely understand why. Unsettled by this physical manifestations of… _what_ she couldn’t quite say, she turned away from him only to be confronted by the gallows that had been prepared.

“Why?” she wondered, staring up at the instrument of death. “Why can’t I kill you? And how long has _that_ been going on?”

Astonishingly, he chuckled and she turned to him in surprise. The way he was looking at her… It did riotous things to her insides that she just couldn’t comprehend.

“I’d like to think it has been there a lot longer than I suspect it actually has,” he said, giving an answer that at the same time answered nothing.

“Something is missing,” she claimed in frustration. “Something I should know.”

“I can help you with that…”

When he held forward his wrist, displaying the cuff that sent a wave of nausea over her as it moved, Rey narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

“You’re just trying to use me as your escape, aren’t you?”

He sighed deeply and actually, as if that were possible, appeared hurt by her accusation.

“Rey, I think you’ve already accomplished that quite well yourself.”

She looked away sharply, gritting her teeth in annoyance with herself. He was right, of course, but she truly did not like it.

“My life is in your hands, Rey. I place it there willingly and I won’t do anything to counter whatever you decide must happen.”

“How can I decide anything when I don’t know anything?” she complained softly.

“That’s where I can help. Get this thing off me.”

Only too glad to comply in order to lift the awful shroud from her consciousness as well, Rey reached forward and pressed the appropriate combination of buttons to deactivate and release the cuff. Before she could even look up into Kylo’s eyes again, his hands lifted to hover on either side of her head. Startled, she gripped his wrists just as awareness came flooding into her.

In an instant, the whole of their conversation from the previous day — the memories he had deliberately shielded from her conscious mind — returned to her. She knew why she couldn’t kill him. She knew he’d tried to make it so she still could without wreaking havoc on her emotions for the remainder of her life. Even more significantly, absolutely astonishingly, she knew he loved her. Staring at him, he was entirely remade in her eyes, familiar yet novel at the same time. And words fell from her lips that seemed to resonate within the Force, drawing forth a significance that she couldn’t possibly understand but only _feel_.

“I know,” she murmured, awestruck. “Somehow…I’ve always known.”

As a solitary tear trickled from her eye, Ben reached for her, his hands trembling as they delicately settled on either side of her jaw. His hold was loose, tenuous, granting her every chance to withdraw should she so desire, but his gaze was steadfast, resolute, unwavering. As they drew together, Rey felt her heart thudding desperately in her chest, her breathing suddenly shallow and sporadic, a gasping sob abruptly cut off when his lips pressed so tenderly against hers.

The kiss was everything. _He_ was everything. With abrupt clarity, she knew why she’d never found the least bit of interest in any of the romantic entreaties she’d received over the years. Because she was meant only for him. She just hadn’t known it. And, now that she did, she knew what she was willing to do for it. Or, more to the point, was she was _not_ willing to do.

“I’m not letting anyone take you from me now, Ben,” she insisted, her forehead pressed to his. “I’ll die before I let that happen.”

“Rey…”

He smiled. A true, genuine smile that had her heart flipping and her stomach fluttering.

“I can’t say I mind that,” he admitted, swiftly kissing her again. “But just so we’re clear…”

“I’m with you,” she interrupted, realizing in surprise that she could sense everything he felt and thought, that the bond she’d thought so long ago banished and decayed had already been resurrected. “There’s nothing that binds me to the Resistance or this fledgling government anymore. This trial has proven that. The _Falcon_ is mine, Ben. Leia bequeathed it to me before she passed, and Chewie agreed before leaving for Kashyyyk. And I want to explore the galaxy with you, Ben. I want to see everything there is to see, everything there is to do, together. Oh, gods, I want that so much more than I’ve ever wanted anything!”

But then, for the first time in Rey’s life, she heard Ben Solo laugh. Her heart stuttered as he kissed her, with considerably less restraint this time, and she realized there was one thing she might want more. To see him smile, hear him laugh, feel his love for the rest of her days. They had been on opposite sides for long enough, both of them choosing a path the other could not follow. Now, gazing deep into the eyes of the man that she knew abruptly she loved more than life itself, she could feel his assent as she realized it was time to choose each other.

And then, abruptly, she thought of Poe waiting outside. Before she could voice her concern, though, Ben laid his warm, strong hand against her cheek and smiled.

“You and I are the two strongest Force-users the galaxy has ever seen. And we are united. Rey… I think we can figure it out!”

She smiled.

He was right.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos are lovely and never get old!  
> But what really keeps me going  
> Is that comments are gold!


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